(Untitled)

[forgottenevil]

These vines

So sharp with despair

They tangle in your skin

Drawing diagrams through your blood

Trailing down your ivory back

They entail memories and hopes

Slicing your spine

You contort fluently with their motion

The dance of such beauty

They have trailed down and through your centre

Encompassing like a gown

So gently they work under your skin

Comments

what i got

[buckshot_mc]

like it,thought about somebody giving themself away and watching it turn to shit.